


Plumbing the Depths

by almina



Category: Ripper Street
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 15:04:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20409748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almina/pseuds/almina
Summary: Reid needs Jackson, wants to see him again after all.





	Plumbing the Depths

Homer Jackson pushed the covers back., swung his legs out of bed. 

"God damn it, I'm coming."

Hard banging on the door. Rattling it. What was it at this hour? What calamity brought someone looking for a doctor? This better be good. He pulled on his robe, jerked the sash tight, slid his feet into the slippers.

He pulled open the front door. There stood Drake, and sagging against him, Reid. A young constable, someone he didn't know, someone who must have been brought on the force after Jackson's departure, was helping to support Reid Blood covered both him and the inspector. Reid's head hung down as if he were counting every drop. Jackson had seen neither Drake nor Reid in the months since Reid fired him. Reid had been harsh in his dismissal. He not only wanted Jackson gone from the station dead room, he wanted him gone from his life forever, never to set eyes on him again. At the time Jackson thought the words and tone would better fit sweethearts going their separate ways, than termination of employment.

Drake noted Jackson's surprise. "He said it had to be you, not Treves." 

The left side of Reid's jacket was sodden with blood. Drops spattered on the tile by the door.

Jackson gestured. toward the surgery. 

"Well, get him in here."

Reid was barely conscious, moving his legs but .unable to stand without Drake and the constable taking his weight. Jackson pointed to the operating table. They lifted Reid. Reid's head fell back 

Jackson cut off blood soaked shirt, waistcoat and jacket as Reid lay supine. Even after all the garish battlefield wounds he had treated, Jackson flinched when he saw the damage. From the slit where the blade had gone in and broken off, came steady pouring of bright arterial blood. Ah shit, did the wound extend into the heart? Reid would die of that hemorrhage if it went on another half hour.

"A horse would stagger after losing this much blood."

Jackson pressed his fingers against Reid's chest just lateral to the wound which was halfway between the nipple and armpit. 

"I found it, I feel it, won't have to go cutting or witching for it. Drake. Look in the kitchen See that pan in the steam cabinet above the stove. Very hot. Use that towel as a pot holder and bring it to me. Everything I need is in it, needles, hemostats, scissors, scalpels, suture silk." 

Drake clunked the tray down on the wheeled instrument table beside the operating table. Jackson reached for a hemostat but jerked his hand away when he touched it. He shook his fingers, and put his hand in the tray again and this time despite the heat, grasped the instrument.

Jackson poked it into the slit of the wound and opened the jaw of the hemostat to expand the opening. Reid should have screamed. It frightened Jackson that he failed to react to such pain.. With his hand pressing on the skin he stabilized the broken off blade though it doubtless cut more flesh as he did so.. He sought purchase on it with the hemostat Too deep. He pushed further If Reid weren't so shocky from the loss of blood, it would have been excruciating. 

The constable shuddered to see it. 

"Aren't you going to give him laudanum." Drake prompted

"He can't have anything that will sedate him. Lost too much blood. It would kill him."

Jackson thought an apology to Reid as he opened the hemostat jaws, clamped onto the blade and drew it out,as if delivering an exotic parasite from his body. He cauterized the wound to stop the bleeding and to kill the germs the broken blade drove into Reid's flesh. The cautery went into the wound with a sizzle. The constable, the new guy, wrinkled his nose at the smell. That annoyed Jackson. Nevertheless he was happy to see the flow of blood stop which meant that the knife had not pierced the heart as he feared but followed a downward path outside the ribcage.

"When you've been on the job a few years, cooked human flesh will be nothing."

The constable looked suitably contrite.

Jackson applied the fruit mold he swore suppressed most infection, killed all the germs you would normally see when you put exudates under the microscope. A few of the people who razzed Jackson for this practice, would live to see penicillin come into general use. They conceded that for all his faults Jackson was ahead of his time. 

He followed the mold with a startling infusion from what he called the toothache plant. He injected the liquid into the wound and the pain stopped. Immediately. Reid sighed, the cessation of pain a profound pleasure even in his state of wavering consciousness. 

Reid felt Jackson place the sutures. It was a perverse comfort to suffer this small pain at Jackson's hands. He heard Drake and the new constable leave.

Reid was drifting but he knew the extent of his injury. Though he was only semiconscious during most of the surgery, Drake's account registered. It fit with his memory of the incident. Jackson had commented. "manually applied shrapnel." and later, "too bad I wasn't there. I'd have seen it coming and taught that son of a bitch something about acute pain."

Hearing that pleased Reid. Yes, his American would have protected him or failing that, exacted revenge

The wound closed, Jackson cut off the rest of Reid's clothing. 

"Plugged one hole, that doesn't mean there is more damage elsewhere." Jackson said as he ran his hands over Reid's abdomen, then down to the groin, paying particular attention to where the femoral arteries rose so close to the surface. Turned him over and was relieved to see no wounds on his back, preferred site for sneak attacks. Finally he washed the blood off his patient. The bowl into which he wrung the wash cloth was bright red, not at all translucent when he finished. He dried the skin and found a large hospital gown which he put on Reid. 

Edmund went from surgery to bed. Jackson had strength from years of moving bodies both alive and dead. He slid Edmund from the operating table to a gurney then wheeled him to a bed in his two bed ward. Edmund would have a view of the sill full of medicinal plants. Jackson pulled the blanket up to Reid's chin as if he were tucking a child in for the night. He had always thought Reid's coloring was beautiful; he would never have said so, but tonight drained as Edmund was, his skin was alabaster. Breathtaking. 

Jackson sat in the armchair beside Reid's bed. People know when they are in danger of dying, when their bodies can no longer support the effort of breathing, seeing, feeling. It's a shock from which they may not recover. Edmund had come so close. His hand, pale as death, twitched, closed into a fist. Jackson took that fist, covered it with his hand.. 

"No need to fight now Edmund." 

Jackson's finger tip touched the radial artery, pulse still too fast and thready. and then their fingers interlaced. Jackson did not pull away. He watched Edmund breathe. Reids' eyes opened. Still he held Jackson's hand. 

"I think you can take some broth without drowning yourself," Jackson said. He stood up. Edmund did not release his hand. 

Jackson set Edmund's hand down on the blanket.

"You have to increase your blood volume. Rid yourself of that lightheaded, woozy feeling. And the thirst"

Reid's eyes widened when Jackson said that. How did he know?. But then, his American knew so much. Jackson had surprised him again, reading exactly the question in his mind. 

"I know you are thirsty, because people who are bleeding to death usually are. Now, some broth,"

Reid closed his eyes. He heard Jackson's brisk footsteps on the wooden floor of the ward, the tile of the surgery, and then quiet. Reid felt alone, not frightened, but he wanted Jackson near. 

Jackson reappeared with a brimming bowl, from which he spilled not a drop. He set the bowl before Edmund on the overbed table, wound the bed up, not to its extreme, for if Reid sat straight up he would faint. Jackson set the spoon just so and laid down the napkin just so, a snooty waiter in a posh restaurant.

The broth, tasting of beef and red wine and salt was wonderful. Every swallow made Reid feel better.

Jackson offered seconds. Reid was afraid he would be sick if he took more. His belly felt stretched with one bowlful.

Then Edmund slept, no longer afraid that he was would die. Morning and there was Jackson by his bed, offering water so cold it had to have come from the ice box.

"I need a look at the sutures." 

He pulled the hospital gown off Reid's shoulder and chest. Touched around the incision then followed a path downwards, where the broken off knife blade had lodged. 

"If it hurts,don't be stoic, you will feel pain if I didn't get it all. Pain can be a friend."

'Don't be stoic' was heresy to a Brit of Reid's generation.

Reid expected competence of Jackson, the sharp intelligence and eerie insights no longer left him open-mouthed with surprise, but what startled him every conscious moment since he came to the surgery was the tenderness, the dead on reading of his feelings, hunger- what exactly would satisfy, then shock after shock how Jackson knew what he was thinking. Mathilda crossed his mind and Jackson told him that he had sent a telegram to her and a message to the Leman St. station, to request that someone accompany her from the railway station, to Jackson's surgery. Then Jackson talked about the very question that plagued Reid, why that small man, the book keeper who was not even to be arrested, sank that knife in him. 

"He felt he brought down big game, knifing the biggest guy among the cops. He thought to impress the gang. And I would further say, he hated that you have all the gifts, your looks, strength, position, he was sick with envy so he went for you. " 

Jackson stroked Edmund's hair back as he said that, and Reid wished that Jackson had been with the coppers who raided that burglary gang. He had no doubt Jackson could have, would have protected him.

Soup, soup, and more soup to bring up his blood volume. Reid noticed more meat and parsley in it..

"After another such meal, you can have laudanum."

"Doesn't hurt much now. What was that you used after the cautery?"

Typical Reid, clinical curiosity about a wound that could have killed him.

'Infusion of the toothache plant. You'll see it on the sill when the sun comes up Over there on the right. You can thank it for its help."

Two hours later, more broth, and this time Reid accepted seconds. He looked much better. Jackson thought of a neglected plant coming to life after watering 

Drake and that new constable showed up late that morning. Jackson took in their gloomy expressions and realized they expected to see Reid near death. Reid was in the armchair by his bed, hospital gown detracting not at all from his dignity. He had cut an orange into wedges, finished a cup of coffee. 

Straight off he asked Drake to stop by his house and pick up some clothes for him. What he wore to the clinic was not wearable and never would be again. Drake's eyes met Jackson's. Was Reid delusional? Was he well enough to be out and about, or doing anything for which he would need street clothes? 

"As much as he is able, he should move around. The bed takes your strength Not ready to return to Leman St, though." Jackson said, raising his voice to impress that fact on Reid. "He'll be staying here about a fortnight, first to catch any further bleeding, a little more time to quell infection."

Though Jackson suspected Reid pretended to feel better than he did for Drake's benefit, he thought he would shop today and do house calls for patients he had discharged. Reid would be alright. He had left Reid in the care of nurses, relatives of former patients who were paying down their bills with service around the clinic. 

All of them were conscientious and some of them were very sharp. Leah's shift today. Bossy little thing.

"The nurse today," Edmund began as Jackson hung up his coat. "She's very bold."

"Oh?"

"She asked to see the sutures. I let down the gown and she looked at the wound and sniffed. I've never seen such behavior." 

"Leah is totally unintimidated. Doesn't know what respectful behavior is. She's perfect for this work."

At dinner were none of the pastries, hot sausage and whiskey that Jackson would have liked but he knew patients did better with fish, meat, fruit and vegetables, so that's what he prepared and put on the table for Edmund.

Reid dressed in some of the clothes Drake brought by. The others he hung up as if he were moving in. Jackson thought he wanted to put distance between himself and other patients. He didn't want to be taken for one of the damaged. He was quiet as he observed Jackson with patients which he did with unnerving attention. He took to eating at the table with Jackson as if his presence here was social rather than medical. He even helped restrain a dog mauling victim as Jackson sutured flaps of skin. 

Jackson understood that Reid was showing him that he was still strong. The patient reviled both of them, swore he was going to set his fighting dogs on Jackson.  
"It would be a pleasure to meet them," Jackson said. " I am sure their manners are better than yours."

Later, they were at dinner in companionable silence ocasionally pointing out oddities in the day's paper, which they handed back and forth. Reid pointed out the announcement of a ratting meet, all welcome, bring your terriers or large aggressive cats.. "Fox hunting for the lower orders," said Jackson.

Knock on the door. Jackson laid down his napkin, excused himself and was off to see the patient who came calling. Turned out it was not a patient but a grandmother who feared her granddaughter was not up to taking care of her sickish baby brother. 

She handed Jackson several coins. "I hope this is more than what you would charge to treat a sick baby. I'm a seamstress and I am to be at a fitting for two days. My Lydia means well, but I am afraid she would ignore Robbie as he got sicker during the night and would wake up, oh so surprised to find him dead. I will leave him in your care."

Jackson cradled the baby. "Lydia wouldn't be the first person who has done that. " No judgment in his voice. "He sounds croupy. Does he eat solid food? The woman nodded and handed him a kit of baby things.

He saw her to the door and moved the baby's hand to wave goodnight and blow a kiss to her.

He lit the flame under the teakettle. "Breathe some steam little man," He felt Reid's eyes on him again. The baby breathed steam and his stridor eased. 

"I'll put him in my room for tonight, so you'll not have your sleep disturbed." 

Reid nodded.

Jackson swayed to soothe the baby, who lay his head on Jackson's shoulder and fell asleep. Jackson sat down, ate with one hand, the other arm around Robbie who showed no distress at all though his chubby cheeks were red from exposure to the steam 

Robbie was not the first baby who had slept in Jackson's room. He had built what he called a baby cage, that formed a crib on the second bed in his room. He set it up and lay Robbie inside. He stroked the infant's back. 

The child was alseep but Jackson left the door open to keep an ear out for him.

He fetched more tea for Edmund, sat down and dug into a pathology text that arrived that day. It was a comfortable evening. Edmund often read at the table; neither man expected scintillating conversation. Married for years you'd think..

Jackson was almost asleep; he thought that Edmund would be alright tonight. No bleeding, no infection flaring, not even a psychological aftershock from the near miss.Reid was without pain and healing nicely. the stab wound already skinned over. He'd taken the stitches out two days ago and told Reid he could convalesce at home.  
He thought Edmund would be happy to clear out,and have no more to do with him.

Jackson woke in surprise when he felt that body in bed beside him, the arm around him. It did not horrify him at all that a man climbed into bed with him. Hardly the first time. But Reid? Jackson turned, stroked the back of Reid's neck.

"You know , the Hippocratic Oath requires that docs refrain from seducing their patients."

"I didn't think you cared about such things."

"Oh, but I do. I cannot break that vow no matter how tempting.," he cupped his hand on Edmund's face, then pulled his head onto his shoulder. When patients are close to death, as you were, they fasten on the people who save them. They fancy they love their surgeon, and then when they are more healed, they want sex, but it is only proving to themselves that they are still alive. And the physician deludes himself that he is irresistible. So no." 

Edmund drew a deep breath.

"But when you are well, and you will be, come to me and we will plumb the depths of depravity," Jackson said.

Jackson kissed Edmund's hairline, tasting the skin, smelling the herbal floral soap Jackson favored for the shower.. 

"You are mistaken Dr. Jackson. It is love, and the other thing, I know I am alive."

Jackson for once was at a loss for an answer so he slept, the weight of Edmund's head on his shoulder.

Reid was packed and ready to leave in the morning. 

"You've regenerated red blood cells, but not all you lost . "Jackson said." You will tire much more easily than you expect. And if in the next month you have another such injury with hemorrhage you probably will die. I hope I haven't driven you off with what I said last night."

"Quite the contrary. When I had Drake bring me here, I expected that you would repair the injury and fend off infection. You did that. And I never suffered the pain I expected. But there is something else.": 

Jackson raised his eyebrows. He was about to say, 'you are shocked, shocked that I refused your offer of sex.. But he saw that Reid was going to say something heartfelt, something at which he should not sneer, well, not sneer much.

"You did all I hoped for and more. What I did not expect is how happy I am in your company, how empty the surgery is when you are out seeing patients or shopping."

" I am still the man you fired."

"Would you move into my house, live with me?" I've watched you, these last few weeks. You are terrible with money, always spending it on medication and supplies, and only a few of your patients pay you. You shrug and say, 'when you can, if you can.'"

"I win enough at cards to break even."

"But one day, even you will fail, take sick from a patient's disease. I have no wish to undermine your generosity or the principles I confess I never suspected. But you need someone to ...."

Jackson cocked his head astounded at what Reid was about to say.

"And you would have me, even useless, whinging and stinking." Jackson was shaking his head in disbelief as he spoke.

"Til death us do part."


End file.
